Mentalist Episode Tag: Every Rose Has its Thorn
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Lisbon and Jane ruminate over the lasting effects of Erica Flynn. A hint of Jisbon. Spoilers, 3x19.


**A/N: Two incredible endings, two weeks in a row! I find myself very pleased. Here is my vision of how things might have happened after the credits rolled. It is a little melancholy, in keeping with the mood once again. **

**Episode Tag: Every Rose Has its Thorn, 3x19**

Lisbon saw Jane emerge from the elevator halfway down the stairs from the attic. She was feeling oddly shaken after viewing his dating video, and she realized that it was because she had once again allowed herself to forget. Jane hid his pain so well with smiles, jokes and a seeming zest for life, that even she frequently bought into the lie. But all one had to do was look at the third finger on his left hand to know the truth-he was still mourning his wife and child, stuck in time like a needle on an old record.

There hadn't been a Red John case for some time, so this had contributed to her lapse in memory. It was only when the murderer's name was mentioned that she would see the bone deep sadness settle over him, the despair, the anger, the obsession, melting away the beautiful smile and dulling the sparkle in his eyes. So between cases, when he was playing the part of the carefree, mischievous consultant, she would allow herself to forget what was really driving him, because she liked him so much better that way.

He looked up at her and gave her his usual grin, but this time she wasn't fooled, and she told herself she wouldn't make that same mistake again.

"There you are," she said brightly, falling back on her own defense mechanism. "The rest of the team went over to Alfonso's for closed case pizza. I told them I'd find you and meet them there. You hungry?"

She joined him at the foot of the stairs, and he nodded at her laptop, ignoring her question. "Sorry. I forgot to sneak that back to you."

She gave him her best _annoyed with Jane _look. "Yeah, well, you could have just asked."

"What's the matter, Lisbon, afraid I might find those old high school pictures you downloaded? That satin marching band uniform must have been really hot."

She colored briefly, but chose not to take the bait. "Let me just drop this off at my office and we can go."

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry."

"Since when?" She eyed him suspiciously.

He shrugged; caught. "Okay, that's a lie. I just don't think I'd be good company right now."

"Why? You were right about Erica Flynn. Don't you feel like celebrating? Or, should I say, _gloating_?"

Lisbon knew that this case had affected him more deeply than he'd let on; his dating video had clearly shown that. Finding a mate was not a topic they ever talked about. She knew he wore his wedding band like a chastity belt, a symbol of his devotion to his wife, a sign to all interested women everywhere that he was off limits. If he didn't go with her tonight, Lisbon knew he'd just stay up there pining for a woman that probably wasn't nearly as perfect as he'd built her up in his mind since her death. They were friends, and friends don't let friends curl up in dark attics and wallow in self pity. At least, not anymore.

"Really, Lisbon, I—"

"I'm not taking no for an answer. Wait here." She began walking down the hall toward her office, calling over her shoulder: "And don't try to escape to your man cave, because I'll find you. I'm a detective, ya know."

"Okay, okay. I'll wait."

Jane sighed in defeat. His eyes wandered longingly up the stairs to where his quiet hideaway awaited him. She'd meant what she'd said, though. She'd just drag him to the pizzeria in handcuffs if she had to, and as amusing as that prospect seemed, handcuffs were very uncomfortable.

He knew if he stayed here he'd just think about Erica and berate himself for how much he'd allowed her to get to him. He was pretty good by now at putting up walls between him and attractive women, but Erica had managed to slip under his guard and drag his pain out into the open, and he'd succumbed to her, even though he knew all along that she was manipulating him. But he hadn't been prepared for how instantly attracted to her he had been. It had been a little scary, not having felt such intense sexual chemistry with anyone since his wife. True, he had deep feelings of adoration for Lisbon, and occasional moments when they looked at each other and he felt a mild jolt in the vicinity of his heart. But with Erica, that jolt had hit him considerably lower, made him want things he'd denied himself for years. It was sure a good thing that she'd murdered her husband, because he honestly didn't know if he would have been able to keep his vows to his wife.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lisbon was pleased to see he'd waited as promised.

"You ready?"

"Yes, if I must be."

"Don't act so put-upon. You love Alfonso's. Besides, I think Cho said something about ordering a supreme in honor of your brilliance. You know how he hates anything but pepperoni."

He couldn't help grinning at that. "That Cho, always taking one for the team." Lisbon chuckled and walked over to press the button for the elevator.

"See there—you can't make his sacrifice all for nothing. What's so attractive about a musty old attic anyway, when there's hot pizza and friends waiting for you?"

He nodded. "I guess you're right. And someone told me recently that I need to get a life. What's more symbolic of living than an Alfonso's Supreme, eh?"

As the elevator dinged its impending arrival, he looked at Lisbon, saw the glossiness of her hair, the shining moss green of her eyes in the dim light of the foyer. Before he could fully register what was happening, he felt her soft, warm lips on his cheek, caught the familiar scent of cinnamon, and the sweet tanginess of her apple shampoo.

"You've got a life," she whispered, stepping away to meet his eyes. "You just need to rejoin it." She smiled to take away the sting, and he found himself smiling in return. And then he felt something more—a familiar jolt, this time, sending tendrils of feeling through every part of his anatomy, not just to one of the top two.

In the elevator, he took her hand in his as they silently rode down to the lobby, felt her squeeze it happily in return. Jane suddenly couldn't wait for the taste of that first slice of pizza.

A/N: Why do I always end with them eating, drinking, or on their way to eat? Maybe I should have a snack before I write these, lol. Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. And by the way, if you're waiting for Chapter 2 of my fic "Red Tape," it's on its way soon, I promise.


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